“I was praying for safety for your long trip home, I guess it didn’t work,” said the voice on the phone.
My hands still shook as my son and I rode in the back of the police car to meet with the rest of my family who had gotten rides from a lady who stopped to help and from the tow-truck driver. It had been quite an eventful last hour.
We had left my mother-in-law’s house to head home, a 27-hour trip.
An hour and a half into the trip as we headed up a mountain pass, a pickup zoomed past us on the left, lost control right in in front of us and began a crazy 360-degree spin. I think I yelled something intelligent like, “Whoa, whoa….whoooooa!” as it careened across the highway. Just as I thought we’d miss it, the pickup bounced dramatically off the guardrail and whirled back into our lane. My husband struggled to stop, but with only time for one more helpful, “Whoooa!” we smacked straight into the back corner of the swirling pickup. It continued to bounce and we fizzled into a smoking, hissing grinding mess.
My husband miraculously maintained control and coasted to the side where we gathered out wits and scrambled out of the horribly smoking van. It was freezing! We huddled on the side as the pickup disengaged from where it had stuck on the opposite guardrail.
We exchanged the appropriate data with the pickup’s driver and she and her passenger left us with a completely blown and incapacitated van. Tow truck and police arrived, sorted things out, and we figured out how to get everyone back into town.
I had called to let family know what had happened. My first ever phone call from the back of a police car. And just in case you wondered, it my first ride in the back of a police car too!
My mind spun while I talked on the phone, explaining the drama of our trip and wondering about our van, how we were going to make it back in time for the start of school after Christmas vacation, and where were we going to stay and what would happen with everything, but the voice on the other end of the phone stopped me cold.
“I was praying for safety for your long trip home, I guess it didn’t work.”
Suddenly I was so sorry I had been concentrating on the drama and the worry and details and not focusing on the complete and total miracle.
Six of us and a dog, in a van, going between 55 and 60 mph, passed by a heavy-duty pickup going probably 75 on an icy mountain pass with oncoming traffic. The pickup spun, but missed us the first time, hitting us on the rebound, which lessened the impact. The oncoming traffic held their lane and barely missed forming a pile-up. The front of the van took the impact but did not crumble back into our seats. Six of us and a dog—and our worst problem was how it was cold outside. Not one injury. Not even soreness.
We were uncomfortable but not hurt. We were inconvenienced, but not knocked out. We had even managed to make each other laugh and grab a selfie while waiting for the police and tow truck while we lit up the highway with our cell phones so we didn’t’ get hit again. Crazy night.
But safe? You bet. God most definitely granted prayers for safety and led us to untold blessings. Let’s be honest, I would rather it wouldn’t have happened. I could have happily made a safe trip home with no drama or inconvenience.
But would I have noticed God as much? I would have been glad to be home, but now I am happily home and standing in awe of the blessing of a completely totaled van, but six people and the dog, all just fine!
